


Throat of the Abyss

by WedoMorrison (metalwurm)



Series: Golden Grain and Bird Bone [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blind Soldier:76, Blind!Soldier:76, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Combat, Cordyceps Levels of Creepy, M/M, McCree is not white, Mostly Blind but not Fully, Nanites, Non-traditional family dynamics, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Papa Bear Reyes, Post-Recall, Scarred Jack, Tentacles, Weird and Vaguely Horrifying Displays of Affection, What Could Go Wrong he says as Everything Proceeds to Go Wrong, Wraith Form, because wraith form
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:51:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalwurm/pseuds/WedoMorrison
Summary: The loud, sickening crack of his bones breaking drowned out the wet thud of the other man's body hitting the ground beside him. Pain, hot and crackling, consumed his lower body in a burning rush. His visor shattered with a burst of sparks when his head slammed against the dirty floor, his vision blinking out and leaving him completely blind, the communicator crushed and hissing before it to gave out with a dying whine. His lungs didn't even give him air enough to scream. Blood filled his mouth, gurgling as he tried in vain to force words past his lips. Gabe, Gabe I'm down here, please don't—The other man started to scream.





	1. Teeth of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> After an unfortunately much-too-long wait, part 3 of the GGaBB fic series is finally here! Hope to have this fic end up neatly in 3 parts, but if I have to write more, well, that's not exactly the end of the world. Please **mind the tags** as they will change with each update. I won't list them all up-front to avoid spoilers, but please make a habit of checking them before reading future updates to avoid reading anything that might be a squick or trigger for you! This chapter has needles briefly. This chapter is mostly set-up with added character development, and that's why its taken so long. I hope you don't mind a peaceful chapter before the _real_ plot picks up and decks ya.

"I wasn't expecting to see results so soon," Angela mused, pressing a thin finger against the firming flesh of Gabe's forearm, "but this is good. The cellular decay has slowed quite a bit. You're not stable, but... it is improvement." Gabe seemed to only be half paying attention, his crimson eyes watching the muscles and tendons work under his patchwork skin as he flexed his wrist. He'd been staying in Gibraltar for a month, begrudgingly submitting to Angela's help under pressure from Jack, and although the progress was subtle it was progress nonetheless. There was still a lot of crackling tension between Reyes and those that knew he was there; most didn't notice his presence, hidden away in Jack's body like a sentient virus, and as far as he was concerned the less people knew the better.

"It'll take a while longer for those cell cultures to grow, until then, try not to overexert yourself. It's hard enough keeping you stable now, if you get hungry we will likely have a problem." Angela said almost absentmindedly, filling a syringe with clear medication from a small vial. She tapped the needle until all of the air bubbles escaped and the liquid dribbled from the tip, rubbing her feather-light thumb over the crook of Gabe's arm, an absent habit from administering medicine to more... human patients. Without veins, there was no need to seek one out on Gabe. The injection was quick, Angela barely leaning over him for a moment before she was done and dabbing at the black fluid that bubbled up from the puncture with a sterile pad. They'd found out quickly enough that pills didn't work well when one was mostly made of nanites, so he'd have to deal with daily injections of immunosuppressant to keep his body, and the nanites, from rejecting the cells he leeched from Jack. It was far from a permanent solution, but it did keep his hunger and physical being in check. Gabe rolled his sleeve down as soon as she finished, hiding his skin which had become a more permanent mosaic of his brown patched with pale swathes of Jack's own that filled in the gaps. Jack didn't realize he'd been staring, seeing Gabe in human form a rarity nowadays, until Angela suddenly pushed a handful of single-use injectors into a pouch at his hip.

"Make sure he uses this before deployment," Jack's lips ticked down in confusion before she continued, "you are less likely to turn into smoke than Gabriel is. Nanomolecular reconstruction doesn't do complex medication any favors." Ah. He nodded as Angela zipped it closed, fitting the chin piece of his visor scaffold snugly into place. It was barely past sunrise, most of the scraggly handful of people Recall had pulled back were still asleep. Perfect for him, as he didn't have to worry too much about being recognized that way. Gabe got to his feet, stretching out his muscles, pausing for a long moment, before opting to pull his mask back on instead of dissolving to hitch a ride under Jack's clothes.

"Thanks for the help, doc." Jack started, clipping his visor into place for the walk, "we'll get in contact after we land in Germany. Shouldn't take longer than a few days."

"What was it that you used to tell me, 'don't count your chickens before they hatch'? You said the same thing about the last errand you ran in Germany and look how that ended up." Gabe snorted loudly, but didn't say anything. Jack had to admit that Angela had a point.

"Okay, well, this time I have Reyes with me and there shouldn't be anyone alive within five clicks." A simple recon mission, to get them both back on their feet, and to get some much-needed tech. Winston had been trying his best to keep everyone supplied and supported, but with their operation firmly illegal they needed to scavenge for new weapons and materials. It wasn't ideal, but, it made ends meet. It was also the least he could do for Winston after he agreed, no matter how begrudgingly, to let Reaper stay.

"Is the monkey sending along babysitters, or are we going to be treated like adults?" Gabe suddenly spoke up, his voice gravelly and tired, a burst of black vapor leaking from under the mask. Jack glanced over to him out of habit, even though he knew with his mask on he wouldn't be able to see his expression, the exhaustion in his tone prickling at something in his hind-brain. He couldn't put a finger on what it was, but he'd been picking up on it more and more as the weeks passed. He wondered, dimly, if the residual nanites in his bloodstream from Gabe's constant use of him as a host was starting to affect him.

"He's sending someone with you, but I wouldn't worry too much. I have a feeling you won't be too upset with the arrangement." Angela's response was almost cryptic, playful, and Jack had to swallow down an amused noise when he heard Gabe's snort. It was almost familiar, as if the past thirty-some years had been nothing but a long, vivid nightmare. When Reyes moved to leave did his cloak brush across his leg, an unfortunate affirmation that the present was very much real. He didn't wait for Jack to catch up, vanishing around the corner without another word, the tenseness and unease rolling off of him in waves.

"It'll be fine, Angie. I promise. The exclusion zone has almost completely overgrown, and I highly doubt Talon's bothered to go picking through such rough terrain when there are plenty of old, accessible bases that make better targets." Angela just chewed her lip for a moment before letting out a quiet breath. She squeezed his shoulder and placed a quick kiss on his forehead, tilting her head towards the door as she pulled back. _Go, he won't wait_. He picked up his pulse rifle, the weapon still heavy in his arms even after years of use to get accustomed to it, before he turned on his heel to follow Gabe to their usual morning perch. The early days were adding up as of late, his steps a bit heavy and posture slumped with missing sleep. While he was itching for the chance to get back on the field that the mission offered, the endless hours spent idle on the base having made him nervous and antsy, he wasn't sure if he was ready for the possibility of combat, no matter how fleeting a chance it was.

Something in his bones seemed to tug him along impatiently towards the sunny outcrop of rocks that he and Gabe had unofficially claimed as their sunning spot, and as soon as he stepped out into the fresh sea-laden air he spotted him splayed out languidly on the smooth, weather-worn rock. He had to swallow the chuckle that threatened to break the silence, the sight of him draped so uncaringly made all the more hilarious by the fact he was in his full battle attire, having constructed it before their appointment with Angela to ensure he'd be rested and ready to go by the time they landed in Eichenwald. His form was starting to fray at the edges, black tendrils creeping over the sand and dirt like tentative roots, likely sensing that he'd drawn close and seeking his body to anchor to.

"You sure look comfortable, Reyes." Jack said flatly, the mask hiding the smirk he couldn't help but make. Reaper growled at him, low and rumbling like a crocodile, but made no move to get up or even lift his head to glare at him. It was a bit easy to forget just how formidable an opponent Gabe could be when he was face down and motionless in a patch of sun, a few white flowers bobbing in the sea breeze around his shoulders. When he moved to sit down next to him did Gabe push himself up, gesturing for Jack to sit in front of him even though he needed no reminding of where he was to be. After the first week the daily ritual had been ingrained in him; sit in front, support him, and let him soak up as much light as possible. It was an unspoken understanding between them, a few peaceful hours of dropped guards and raw vulnerability, where all the conflict and bitterness of the past was briefly, blissfully, forgotten.

As soon as he was seated, pulse rifle discarded in the grass at his side, he felt Gabe press against his back, chin hooking over his shoulder and clawed hands wrapping around his hips, resting limply in his lap. The edge of his mask clacked audibly against the visor scaffolding's earpiece, Jack ticking his head to the side in reflex until Gabe settled in behind him and exhaled a sleepy sigh of dark smoke. The wispy tendrils of shadow that wreathed Gabe's form were quick to reach for him, circling around his shoulders and arms as Gabe let his focus on maintaining his form wane in favor of squeezing the most energy out of the meek morning light as he could. Jack had grown so used to the creeping, cold filaments that he hardly noticed they were there. Most stayed above his clothing but a few slid under the fabric and skin beneath, curling around his bones and threading through his muscles. As the weeks had passed he'd found the sensation familiar, soothing even, his shoulders slumping as he let the tenseness bleed out of him.

Minutes passed quickly, the gentle warmth of the sunlight growing stronger and the shadows fading out, exposing where Gabe's inky black tendrils had spread all around him. They had a little while before the scheduled meeting time in the hangar and Jack didn't want to disrupt him until they absolutely had to go. His gaze traveled downwards, absently focusing on Gabe's hands bracketing his hips. Even though he had on his protective gloves that ruined his sense of touch he took Gabe's hands into his own, running his thumb down his palms and pressing the pad of it against one of the silver claws that tipped his fingers. Reyes grunted behind him, stumbling out of his focus for a few seconds and flexing his hands, before realizing it was only Jack trying to occupy himself. He let out a soft noise in the back of his throat like a purr and tilted his head, the beak of his mask nuzzling under Jack's chin, the closest thing to a kiss he could accomplish in his gear.

He'd seen Reyes outside of his gear enough in the past month to have relearned most of his new body, the scars and changes, and knew that the metal sheaths covered black, predatory claws. It was something he hadn't seen him completely will away when he tried to appear human, along with the sharp teeth and the black tongue. He wondered sometimes if he was even capable of changing those parts of him. He continued to run his fingers over Gabe's hands, distracting himself to keep the anxious hollow in his stomach from drowning out his thoughts. As if in response a smokey tendril slithered out from under Gabe's sleeve, reaching out to coil loosely around his wrist and rub little circles on Jack's knuckles in a mirror of what he himself was doing to Reaper's palm.

"Always did like it when I played with your hands," Jack mumbled absently, turning Gabe's hands to look at his palms, his claws splaying out passively for him to appreciate, "used to fall asleep on me when I'd do it in the transport. 'Bout the only way I could get you to settle on the front. We both used to get so wound up and anxious, remember... remember how Ana used to threaten to stick us with those tranqs of hers when we'd get too hopped up? Nervous as a bunch'a unbroke horses." Gabe hummed back at him, although he could feel a laugh rumbling deep in his chest when the edge of his accent started to creep into his words, "Hard to believe. Feels like a lifetime ago." Something changed in the air instantly, the peace shattered the moment the words left his lips. Gabe suddenly shifted behind him, the shadow of his form solidifying and reaching out to swallow Jack as he pressed the smooth face of his mask against the back of his neck, the edge of it digging almost painfully into the thin flesh there.

"Si, mi luna," his voice was soft, almost mournful, before he hissed out a breath and his tone turned sharper, the roots of his form twisting almost painfully in Jack's body before he ripped them away, "it _was_ a lifetime ago for me."

Jack gasped in shock more than pain when Reyes suddenly jolted back and vanished from behind him, disappearing in a swirl of smoke inside the base. All at once he knew he'd struck a nerve; he should have known better than to bring up the past. The first few weeks had been rough, constant trial and error with the both of them just on the edge of defensive over what to leave in the past or to drag, screaming and raw, into the present. He inhaled deeply, held it, before letting it slowly escape in a weary sigh. There was no black smoke. He got to his feet stiffly, keeping his back straight as he hefted the heavy rifle back into his arms and turned on his heel to follow Reyes inside. Morrison was improving under Angela's care but it seemed age had a firm grip on him. She'd rattled off a grand speech of regiments and medications and therapies she wanted him to partake in to keep him up to form but he'd yet to take any of the pills she left for him in his quarters or spend much time focusing on his diet. They were distractions he couldn't bring himself to focus on where there were more important things to devote himself to. Maybe after the mission he would set aside some time for it, though, for her sake.

It was close to the rally time; he knew Gabe would have gone straight to the hangar. He could pick up on more people moving around and his pace sped up a bit, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation. Most of the younger agents were pleasant enough to be around, but seeing them so young, younger than even he and Gabe had been when they signed up for the SEP, made his chest ache in a hollow, protective way. He was too old for that. Sentiment would get him killed, had almost gotten him killed too many times already. As if in response a dull, hot ache crackled to life along his shoulder blade, the impact of hitting the concrete in Dorado during his botched shakeup of the Los Muertos gang coming back to haunt him. At least no one was in the hallways to see how he rolled his shoulder stiffly, or how his breathing went rough and stuttered as the _pop_ of his joint returned most of his range of motion.

When Jack finally rounded the corner to the hangar he stopped in his tracks, sensing the atmosphere change drastically. He almost pulled his rifle up to his shoulder before he realized what it was he was looking at exactly. Gabe's form was only just holding together, fraying at the edges into wisps of smoke and darkness, less circling and more floating around McCree— _hell_ , it was _Jesse_ —like a vulture above the dying. His eyes immediately flicked to Gabe's hands and he found them empty; he hadn't summoned his weapons and his fingers were lax, claws useless and arms all but limp. Jack almost dropped his rifle right then and there, practically feeling the tangled, knotted emotions bubbling up inside Reyes as if they were his own. They hadn't seen Jesse since well before the incident in Zürich; it was almost hard to believe the scrappy kid that had followed them and Ana around like a puppy had grown up and was standing right in front of them.

McCree had his pistol up and followed Gabe's every move with it, clearly mistrusting and on guard; it didn't seem like he'd noticed Jack yet which was just as well for him. He couldn't blame him for being on the defensive but he also hoped that he wouldn't have to break them up if they got into a spat. Reyes seemed to force himself to focus for a moment, legs reforming as he soundlessly settled onto the metal floor, eyes locked with Jesse's. The pistol was pointed dead at where Gabe's heart would have been and Jack knew that even without most of his organs, Gabe's fragile core would be seriously damaged by a point-blank shot. It drew his tense limbs taut as a bowstring as he watched the silent conversation passing between the two, spoken in body language instead of words.

Gabe's form was still flickering, smoke rolling off of him in waves, hazing the air around him like a rippling aura. It thickened into wispy tendrils of darkness that reached towards McCree, hesitant, almost fearful, as the first roamed over the steady fingers holding the pistol in a vice grip. The gleaming red eyes behind the mask softened at the touch, his focus centering, claws solidifying from the smoke to fold over Jesse's scarred knuckles while the other hand tugged away his mask, letting it dissolve into nothing. Jack couldn't see his face through the hood but from the sudden shift of Jesse's expression it had to be only partly human. The firearm nosed downward as McCree's grip slackened, Gabe's free hand reaching towards his face, brushing his clawed thumb gently under his eye while the others disappeared in his unruly hair, under the brim of his hat.

_"Vaquerito..."_

Jack suddenly felt like he was intruding on something intimate and private, dropping his rifle's aim and letting his posture go lax. He saw the way Jesse's face crumbled into raw, bloody recognition, as though the Earth itself had cracked apart underneath him when the word left Gabe's lips; the only sound he made was the _clang_ as his pistol dropped to the floor, momentarily forgotten, his world narrowed down to Reyes and that single word. The nickname had been something Gabe had taken to using after Jesse started to accompany him on missions, something silly and soft to keep them grounded; they'd always been close, ever since Reyes had rescued him out of the Deadlock gang. He didn't have to imagine what their bond was like. He cautiously approached, averting his eyeline when he saw Jesse pulling Gabe into an embrace so as not to break up the moment for them. McCree's hat slid back and off of his head, landing abandoned at his heel, while his shoulders shuddered under an attempt to control his breathing.

He could barely hear their hushed voices as he walked closer; Jesse's soft outpouring was muffled where he'd burrowed into Gabe's chest, flesh and mechanical hands knotted in the coarse black fabric as Reyes ducked down to press a kiss into his hair, mumbling soothing nonsense in Spanish. His eyes ticked up when Jack passed, wet with emotion and gleaming a predatory red, the slit pupils dilated and round, almost— _almost_ —human-like. Jack stopped when they made eye contact, transfixed as though held in the stare of a gorgon, rooted to the spot as though his bones were rebelling against him. Gabe's lips curled up a bit in a half-grin, tilting his head to whisper something into Jesse's ear. With the way he suddenly jerked up and spun around to look at him, Jack knew Gabe was up to something. Jesse looked him up and down, glanced back to Gabe, then looked over at him again, as if disbelieving of something.

"Nah, no way," Jesse started, his body language switching back to relaxed ease immediately as he openly gestured towards Jack, "no way this is ol' Farmer John. Pullin' my leg, _Jefe_." Jack bristled almost instantaneously at the old nickname, and although his visor blocked the glare he directed over at Reyes he knew he could sense it in the toothy grin that broke across his face.

"Reyes, you asshole—" Jack hissed as he reached up to his visor, knowing Gabe was playing him into coughing up his identity to the team and although he didn't want to humor him, he knew he wouldn't relent until he won, "—I told you, I don't want the whole base to know." The seals huffed as he popped the release, pulling it away to expose his face. He blinked at the sudden disruption of the visor's feedback into his brain, McCree dissolving into a blurred splash of colors as his damaged eyes took over. He couldn't see his expression, but the silence that followed was pretty telling.

"Shit _veijito_ , and I thought _shichoo_ here got ugly." Jack rolled his eyes and had to keep himself from smiling when he heard Gabe smack the back of McCree's head.

"Watch your fuckin' mouth, _mijo_ ," Reyes growled halfheartedly, and Jack could picture the smoke leaking from behind his sharp teeth, through the holes in his cheeks, "we might've gotten old but we're still your commanding officers." Jesse just responded with a strained laugh, the emotions he was no doubt caught up in still having a solid hold on him. Gabe seemed to sense it the same moment Jack did. "C'mon, don't want to keep the pilot waiting." Gabe nudged him up towards the ramp to the airship, the click of metal on metal catching his ear as he assumed Reyes picked up McCree's discarded hat weapon.

Jack went to move forward but collided with something solid, a muffled grunt escaping him as he was startled into stillness, realizing Jesse had surged forward and wrapped his arms around him. Even without being able to see he could feel Gabe's eyes on him, hawk-sharp and burning, but whether it was out of concern by his sudden noise of pain or protectiveness over Jesse he couldn't be certain. He let his shoulders droop and wrapped his free arm around his back, pulling him in a little closer to hook his chin over his shoulder. Jesse's grip on him tightened and it was hard not to think back to the skinny, blood-covered kid Reyes had brought back from the Deadlock op, that broke Jack's nose for moving too fast in his periphery, that could only speak in a hot clash of Spanish and Apache. Jack had never been as affectionate with him as Gabe had, but that didn't mean he didn't have a soft spot a mile wide for him, even after he called him a _"pinche Pendejo"_ in front of the entire UN. Gabe had played the holofootage of his face, and the resulting total silence of the UN members, for _years_ afterwards at the slightest opportunity.

"... it's good to see you too, Jesse." Jack tried not to focus on how his voice wavered, or how willingly he melted into the contact. When he pulled away he went to put his mask back on, but was surprised when McCree stopped him, his metal hand gently grabbing his wrist. He had a feeling that Jesse was probably making an expression that explained why he had done that, but without his visor on he couldn't see it. It must have taken Jesse a moment to realize that, as he suddenly let go and instead threw his arm over Jack's shoulders, leading him up the ramp into the ship.

"Leave it off, got someone I think'll be happy to see the both'a ya." He could practically hear the grin on Jesse's face, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a slight twinge of harmless unease make itself known in his stomach. At least he could sense Gabe close to him, somewhere off behind him but inside the main bay of the old transport ship. Jesse suddenly whistled, his arm sliding off of Jack's shoulders, and for a moment he was tempted to fit his visor back on just to get his bearings. "Hey, _shik'isn!_ Look what the cat dragged in!" Jack blinked, recognizing the word, looking up towards what he hoped was the cockpit for any signs of movement. Jesse had only called one person that. When he heard the answering voice, he knew immediately that it was Fareeah.

Maybe this mission wouldn't be as stressful as he'd feared.


	2. Claws of the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for hell????? Warnings for implied child death (non-explicit and not shown), mentions of vomiting, gore and violence, and the general creepy body horror that follows Reaper around like a weird puppy. Take care if any of this is a squick for you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long but booooy howdy did the job I got back in late November of last year totally destroy my energy and free time. I've been poking at this chapter ever since, but due to some circumstances surrounding my home life last year I wasn't in a good place, physically or mentally, to write until well into the summer of this year after moving into a new place. But! Now things are going great. I have two jobs, a loving husband, amazing fans and friends and my health. I thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter! I'm so sorry its short and a bit on the choppy side, but I have spent a year staring at it and I figured I might as well get it over with and move on to the next part that I'm way more excited about!

"... something isn't right, _jefe_."

Reaper dropped into a crouch next to Jesse, following where he was pointing. His metal hand rested just shy of a mass of disturbed lichen, which looked as if it'd been toed up off of the rotting masonry by a boot. Jack was quick to come up around McCree's other side, studying the sign before he looked further up the way for anymore tracks. His hand twitched on the guard of his rifle, unease already settling under his skin like spider silk. He looked over at Fareeah and she seemed to be on the same train of thought, already checking her suit's systems for flight.

"I'll scout up ahead. I'll stay under the skyline and report back if I see anything." She smoothly flipped down the faceplate of her helmet, the humming of her rockets powering up growing from a dull exhale to a high growl. It took barely a moment for her to bound up onto one of the crumbling overhangs and vanish out of sight, the buildings quickly muffling all but the loudest noises of her suit. It was supposed to be a simple supply run, but it already looked like it was going to get more complicated than they'd bargained for.

"Its too optimistic to hope for looters, isn't it."

"I'd say. Tactical tread," McCree gestured to the barely-there impressions that had been left in the moss, "unless the German army is doing exercises out here I'd bet we have company of the unfriendly sort." Jack knew the army wouldn't step foot back in this place. It was a graveyard to them, a somber place to be left to nature to do what she willed. There were no doubt plenty of unclaimed bodies under the thick covering of vine and moss, and no self-respecting army played in graveyards of their own dead.

"We might as well keep moving. You two can stand here being sitting ducks but I'd like to get underway." Black smoke sank and clung to the low flora, barely more than an out-of-place shadow as Reaper followed where Fareeah had already cleared. Jack tried not to sigh, instead opting to nudge the side of McCree's boot with his foot. He didn't need any urging after that, getting to his feet and brushing off his chaps.

The discovery had cast a tense atmosphere over the lot of them, as they all knew only one group would be interested in rooting through ruins from the Omnic war. The thick carpet of lichen underfoot disguised their footsteps, but it would also serve to hide the footsteps of anyone else who could be digging around as well. Part of him wanted to call the whole thing off, to get Fareeah and Jesse back on the transport and safely back to the Watch Point. A more selfish part of him wanted to keep Gabe as far away from Talon as possible, as if by hiding him away he could be sure that Gabriel was truly on his side this time.

"... y'know, maybe sending Fareeah ahead wasn't the best call," Jesse suddenly spoke up, giving voice to Jack's own rampant thoughts, "those jets are loud, they'll know she's there before she sees 'em in these tight quarters."

"Let's just hope we're both wrong, Jesse."

Jesse hummed back at him but pulled his gun for good measure, taking a few strides forward and keeping Jack at his back. Jack brought his rifle up to his shoulder in response, keeping a good ten yards between himself and Jesse just in case someone tried to flank them. So far there hadn't been any sounds of conflict or any signs of large numbers of troops, so the small hope that this would end quietly clung to life in his breast.

He wasn't getting any sort of feedback from Gabriel, his tentative connection through the shared nanites nothing but basal static, informational noise. He did, however, find himself drifting towards where he must have gone, nearly losing McCree several times in the maze of crumbling buildings. It was hard to focus when his gut instincts were being pulled in two separate directions. He hadn't been in active combat since Reaper had joined them and because of that he hadn't learned how to internalize the strange dual inputs he was getting from the nanites' back feeding into his nervous system from Gabriel. He made a mental note to ask Angela to see if there was some sort of blocker she could make for situations like this in the future.

Chalky concrete crumpled under his foot, causing him to nearly lose his balance. Jack threw his hand out to catch himself, finding a half-rotted door under his gloved hand. It groaned with his weight but held, only collapsing after he jerked himself away from it, disintegrating into chunks that bounced off the loam. The mask filtered the musty scent of the stale air that puffed out but he nearly gagged regardless, seeing scattered bones and scraps of clothing almost completely consumed by the ever-present lichen. He swallowed down bile that threatened to claw up his throat and spun the other way, hands on his knees to steady himself; he recognized a design on the fabric as belonging to a cartoon that had been popular in Europe before the war. It was enough to know. He'd seen plenty of dead in his service, but dead _children_ was something no good man ever got used to seeing.

"Y'alright old man?" Jesse's voice was soft, his hand warm and steady on Jack's shoulder. He shoved the image from his mind, took a shaky breath and stood up straight before McCree could ask again. He waved him off, swallowing thickly before the nausea could creep back up.

"M'fine. Just... keep going."

"Sure," Jesse sounded thoroughly unconvinced, "watch your footing, its pretty unstable here." He was very glad he couldn't see his eyes through the visor, or he might have seen him rolling them. His stomach was still in knots, and the strange invasive probing from Gabe's side of the nanite link only made him feel queasier. Despite being fine physically he felt himself drift further behind Jesse, the strange here-nor-there sensations once again preying on his attention. _Alright, this is going on the top of the list for Angela_.

Jack was jolted out of his own thoughts by the muffled sound of an explosion, Jesse casting a look back at him for a split second before gesturing to his right and bolting. He nodded and took off after him, heading to the right where the explosion had come from. He didn't need to guess what it was; he recognized the sound of Helix rockets anywhere. Fareeah had definitely gotten into a scrap with Talon, no doubt; she wouldn't have fired on any lesser threat than that. He felt the strange coiling turn of Reaper's focus shifting in his bones, sensing the active switch in the other's mind from searching to hunting. It made his blood run hot and his heart race, as if he was twenty years younger and fresh from the SEP.

The sound of gunfire filled his ears as he rounded the corner, coming out of an alley and into the remains of what was probably a market square, littered with decaying Bastion units and derelict cars. He lifted his rifle and fired a volley of rockets at the thickest cluster of Talon agents, scanning the sky for Fareeah but seeing no sign of her. He could feel Reaper coming up on the tangle's flank, almost seeing the differing view of the Talon agents out of the corner of his eye; it nearly gave him vertigo. He barely had time to duck behind a crumbling wall before bullets sprayed in his direction, his reaction time slowed to a crawl from all of the conflicting sensory information.

"Fareeah, where are you?!" Jack hissed into his com, trying to take up as little space as possible as heavier fire was directed at him. He felt the pull of the trigger before he even heard the booming of Gabriel's shotguns, the gunfire spinning away from him in a mad dance as the agents refocused on their new target. It made his head throb.

He didn't need to hear Fareeah's answer as the deafening blast of her rockets told him everything, the projectiles slamming into the exposed back of the agents when they turned on Reaper. It seemed for every incapacitated agent two more would filter in to take their place, and he realized that there were too many for just the four of them to handle with so little prep work. He leaned out of his hiding place, took a breath, and rolled forward to get to better cover.

He couldn't see where the Talon soldiers were now over the hollow belly of the Bastion unit he'd curled into for protection, but by the amount of bullets pinging off of the rusting hulk at his back there were now a lot more than he'd originally thought. Jesse was still somewhere to his right, hopefully behind the bombed-out remains of the turn of the century Volkswagen he'd seen out of the corner of his eye when he'd ducked for the new cover. He could hear Fareeah hovering somewhere above, drawing their fire, as the sound of bullets pinging off the old Omnic suddenly stopped after another volley of her rockets. Most of the soldiers had been in Talon gear, but some had distinct insignias emblazoned on their body armor; Vishkar, he'd realize much later. All of his thoughts on the ambush's origins ground to a sudden, terrifying halt when he leaned out of his makeshift foxhole to see Jesse roll out from behind his cover, hat tilted back and pistol raised in his steady hand.

"Step right u— _urk_!!"

A smear of crimson bloomed on Jesse's throat, a sickly blossom that grew gnarled and deadly from his delicate flesh, as a bullet sliced through the side of his neck. Blood sputtered from his mouth, stance faltering when he tried and failed to fill his lungs, gun clattering to the ground, forgotten. His hands flew up to his throat and clawed at the wound, eyes wide with a feral, desperate panic, as he tipped backwards and collapsed with a muffled _thud_. A heartbeat's width of silence passed before a monstrous, thundering roar split the air, a hot mix of pain- _anger- **fear**_ bursting inside of Jack's chest as Gabe vaulted a car, half-wraithed and wreathed with smoke as he got between McCree and the soldiers, less a man and more of a shadow of teeth and claws, whipping like a leashed hurricane. He lunged for the huddled soldiers with the grace of a hunting cat, claws and teeth and shotguns tearing into the frightened men with a feral, uncontrollable rage.

Jack had started running the second after Jesse fell, the cover Gabe's attack offering him enough security to completely focus on the younger man, dropping to the dirt beside him and all but tossing his rifle out of the way. His gloved hands were methodical and gentling as he pressed down on the wound and reached for the biotic canister. Jesse was frantic under him, writhing like a serpent in both panic and pain, and Jack had to nearly clamor on top of him to try and steady him before he hurt himself. He didn't think he'd have enough time to use the device as intended; Angela would kill him for this but losing McCree wasn't an option. There was too much blood, too much and too fast and too dark; he only had seconds left before he bled out, and all thoughts of caution fled from his mind. He cracked open the canister's protective casing to expose the inner nanite cartridge and jammed it into Jesse's shoulder hard enough to trigger the pressure switch, the mechanism firing and injecting the concentrated nanotech into his body. It was reckless and dangerous but Jack had no choice.

Jesse lurched underneath him and went taut as a bowstring when the nanites flooded into his body, a choking scream tearing past his bloodied lips, tears of pain dripping freely from his eyes. It made Jack's guts twist up with long-buried paternal instinct but he couldn't let his emotions distract him now, lest he lose the kid to his wound. He watched as Jesse's struggles slowed, the warm glow of the nanites concentrating around his torn throat, the ragged flesh healing beneath his gloved hands as the flow of blood stopped. His breathing grew louder, from rough rasps to desperate wheezing and finally to wet coughing as the golden light faded, the nanites spent and shutting down without their housing unit to return to.

"Fareeah get Jesse to the transport now!" Jack shouted, helping him up onto his hands and knees. They were still exposed and Gabriel wouldn't be able to keep them distracted forever, but he also knew he couldn't push Jesse lest he fall further into shock. His eyes were glazed over and his whole body shaking and it made him sick to see him in such a state; it brought back memories of when Reyes had brought him back from the botched Blackwatch mission with his arm so mangled Angela and Moira had to amputate it.

"I'm coming in, I'll get him back and wait for you at the transport." Fareeah's voice over his com was damn near heaven-sent, looking up to see her touching down weightlessly with his red-colored vision.

"No, if we aren't back in five minutes you take off and get him back to Gibraltar, he's still hurt bad." Jack responded, and he cut her off when she looked over, likely to protest, "That's an order, Fareeah." It made something twist up inside of him to raise his voice but there was so much of her mother in her; he knew she still saw him partly responsible for her mother's death, and this must have felt like a nightmarish repeat of that mission. " _Please_."

Fareeah helped Jesse to his feet, his arms clumsy as they wrapped around her neck. He heard shouting from the soldiers at his back and jumped up on reflex, covering the both of them. The biting retort of rifles was drowned out by the bullets striking his back, painting a line of red from his hip, across his spine and up his shoulder. He didn't feel the pain immediately, nanite-deadened nerves giving him a few precious seconds of clarity before it crashed down on him.

" _Go!_ ** _Now!_** "

His vision went blurry as the pain caught up to him, but he saw her glittering form jetting off back towards the transport. _Good girl_. He crumpled to his knees and struggled to fill his lungs, risking a glance over his shoulder to reorient himself with the fight. Gabriel had chewed through nearly the entire enemy force, only a few soldiers still standing and almost all of them in Vishkar gear. He found Reaper's flickering form just in time to see one of the agents shoot him in the back with a weapon he didn't recognize, purple fluid splattering across his cloak like paint.

Whatever it was, it made Gabriel disintegrate into mist almost instantaneously, the sudden jolting pain from his side of the connection lancing through Jack's insides like lightning, even overwhelming the bullet wounds. He gasped and slid to the ground, curling onto his side as he struggled to get air into his lungs, his mask almost smothering him and worsening the sudden fight-or-flight that washed over him.

His senses narrowed down to only himself, the sounds of the fighting draining away to mere background chatter as his breathing quickened, the warmth of blood trickling down his back to soak into the soft mat of moss that he had fallen on. The spongy surface drank it in eagerly. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, in his wounds, slammed against his ribcage as if his body was suddenly too small. It felt all too familiar to the incident at the German Watch Point, where Reaper had first found him.

And then, suddenly, the screaming and rifle fire stopped. He couldn't hear any retreating soldiers, but with his senses so overwhelmed from Reyes he didn't doubt some had managed to slip away from him. Now all he heard was a sickening wet popping, the ripping of flesh and joints being pulled apart by sharp claws. He heaved dryly behind his mask, trying to roll onto his stomach to see what was happening. He knew what was happening, that Gabriel was devouring the dead and dying like a demented vulture, but he still hoped he was mistaken. He'd hoped Gabriel had somehow moved beyond that.

Jack lifted his gaze and froze, suddenly realizing there were a pair of boots in front of his face; they were decidedly _not_ Reaper's. He went to push his arms underneath him, to get up onto his knees at least, but the soldier didn't like that. Jack howled as the steel-toed boot connected with his bleeding shoulder, pinning him face down in the moss as the hot barrel of a gun pressed into his scalp. His heart skipped and he kept quiet. If he was to die like this, in the dirt like a dog, he guessed he deserved it. He let his eyes close, let his body relax, and hoped it would be quick.

The weight of the boot suddenly vanished, the soldier's shouting cutting off into a wet gurgling as Reaper pounced on him. Jack watched him with his visor, his incorporeal state making it difficult for the sensors to focus but it was all he had. Gabriel tore out the man's throat with his teeth, the blood that splattered onto his body absorbing like water on parched soil. Jack's stomach lurched. The man died quickly, the body withering and shrinking as he watched Reyes tear it to pieces effortlessly. It was like watching a lion slaughter an antelope without even bothering to kill it first. The smoke of his form grew and thickened, darkening the sun like a storm until Jack couldn't even see where he ended and the world began. He wondered, dimly, if he was dying and imagining it.

" _Jaaack_ —" he snapped back into reality, the shadows and smoke clouding his sight coalescing into a loose human form as the words grated against his eardrums, almost coming from within his own skull, "— _Jaaack... Jaaack_ —" the words were distorted, gravely and keening, as if merely speaking was almost beyond Reaper's power, "— _still... go... can't... **need**_ —" and suddenly the swirling blackness splashed over him, seeping into the bullet holes and burrowing under his clothing like worms, desperate for bare skin. He jolted, struggling to push himself up but Reaper resisted, coiling around his limbs with a hungry expanse, pinning him to the mossy soil.

"Gab—" his voice cracked into a pained hiss, the thick tendrils of Gabriel's form squeezing his body to prevent him from speaking. He could feel it, now, the cold probing of his roots pressing into his skin and insides like claws, and the specter of his nightmare was suddenly very real. Reaper bore into him as if he was nothing, sliding through flesh and bone alike without a hint of resistance. He tried to gasp in a mouthful of air but instead nearly retched, feeling a cold squirming in his throat like maggots, ink and smoke dribbling from his pale lips. His eyes watered with black tears that stung his skin, air cut off and his very blood thickened with the oil of Reaper's presence.

"—Jack?" the com crackled to life, Fareeah's voice barely audible over the liquid rush of Gabriel's presence in his body, "—ot safe, I have to take off, if you're there ple—" his earpiece fizzled and shorted out, the acid gel of Gabriel's touch enveloping and absorbing it before she could finish. He moaned in fear through the wriggling clump in his throat but his body wouldn't respond, too weighed down by Reaper's fluid body and his own exhaustion. She had made it to the ship and she was going to leave without him. He was both proud that she had listened and, strangely, relieved.

Somewhere, far away from the cold slowly creeping over him, he wondered if Ana had felt the same when he'd left her behind all those lifetimes ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see more Overwatch stuff on [my Overwatch tumblr](http://wedomorrison.tumblr.com/)!

**Author's Note:**

> *Hover your cursor over the Apache words for a translation; I did my best to research into proper Western Apache language but with the only solid ref material being nearly $200 I made due with what I could. The longer Spanish words also have hover translations. _Love me my mixed Latino and Coyotero Apache son_.


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